


Worth the Risk

by lovekernel



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Post-Episode: s11e07 Kerblam, Thasmin if you squint, scene i wish was in the episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 16:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16857385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovekernel/pseuds/lovekernel
Summary: It took Yaz saying it in the TARDIS after everything was over to make the Doctor realise. She could have lost her.





	Worth the Risk

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to write something for these two, and I'm missing a little bit more character development between the mains this series. This is short and based solely on the expression the Doctor had when Yaz spoke to her at the end of Kerblam! Great scene. I love them with my whole heart! Thanks for reading!

If Dan hadn’t have switched scanners, it would’ve been me in that test room.

Yaz’s words echoed in the Doctor’s head as she mended a fuse beneath the TARDIS console. They had been echoing since Yaz said them.

Her friends had long gone to bed, after they visited Dan’s daughter on Kandoka, exhausted from the events of that day.

The Doctor stopped fiddling with wires and dropped her hands to her chest. Things could have gone very differently that day. She had been so distracted, running around Kerb!am, the danger she put her friends in was pushed back in her mind. She had to stop doing that.

The Doctor heard footsteps down the corridor, from the pace and weight she knew who it was. It was still sleeping time, for humans at least, something must have got them up. She slid out from under the console just as they stepped onto the platform.

“Alright there, Yaz?” the Doctor said as she sat up and saw her standing right in front of her. Yaz was in her pyjamas, her hair down, in curls going every which way around her face, just like it was when the Doctor saw her in the morning before she dressed, but now Yaz was wide awake.

“Just thought you might like some company.”

The Doctor smiled. “Can’t you sleep?”

Yaz tilted her head and looked up at the central column. “It’s been quite a day.”

The Doctor nodded. “I understand.”

Yaz looked back at her, her eyes suddenly focused in and crossed the Doctor’s face. The Doctor dropped her head and twisted a knob on the console, then another, she flipped a few switches and kept her eyes down as Yaz’s footsteps approached and she felt her presence right beside her.

“You okay, Doctor?”

The Doctor glanced up for a moment, flashed a smile for the face so close to hers. “Yeah, ‘course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Good idea, Doctor. Give her more to question, why don’t you?

“I just-” Yaz started. Her tongue flicked across her lip and she gazed over the console. “You don’t feel… guilty, for Charlie, do you?”

The Doctor snapped her head up to meet Yaz’s eyes as a rush of thoughts were born from her question.

No. Moving on so quickly once the threat was gone, she had not thought of Charlie’s death. The question that kept cropping up on lonely nights came to her once again. At what point exactly did she become so used to death that it’s significance was lost to her so often? Even when she was partly responsible, albeit indirectly for Charlie’s death, it passed over her like air. She did not feel guilty. Not even now. Not for Charlie.

“You shouldn’t,” Yaz said to her. “He made all the wrong choices. They were his choices, and we gave him a chance. He still wanted to kill all those people.”

The Doctor said nothing. She stepped back from the console and walked to the edge of the platform as Yaz followed.

“I’m really sorry about Dan,” the Doctor said as she sat down and crossed her legs. Yaz joined her, leaving an inch of space between them. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I just wish I could’ve done something,” Yaz replied.

“You did. You gave his little girl some peace. She’ll always have something left from him, and she’ll always know how much he loved her. You made sure of that.”

“I wish he was there to tell her that himself.”

The Doctor opened her mouth and shook her head slightly, wishing there was something she could say or do that would bring some real comfort.

Yaz saw her face and smiled sadly. “I know. It’s happened. There’s nothing we can do about it now. I just wish things were different. He was a good man, he deserved so much better.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor replied. “Whatever could have happened though, whatever outcome… I am so glad you’re alright, Yaz.”

“Thanks to Dan.”

“Thanks to Dan,” the Doctor agreed. She looked up to the ceiling, hoping her gratitude would reach him, wherever he was.

Moments passed in silence. The Doctor kept picturing that vat of waste left over from Charlie’s tests. She kept picturing the panic and despair of Ryan and Graham, and thinking of explanations for Yaz’s family, had the worst happened her. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, even now with Yaz’s warm, breathing body sitting right next to her.

“Penny for them?” came Yaz’s voice, as if from across the room.

The Doctor opened her mouth, then shut it again. She had been doing so well. She showed them the wonders of the universe without spilling her own history everywhere they went. She had managed up to this point not to shed any of her baggage onto them, and she didn’t want that to change. A voice in her head told her she couldn’t go on like this forever. You can’t hide a whole regretful past, especially not one as huge as her own.

“I- We could’ve lost you today, Yaz,” the Doctor said finally, staring straight ahead. “I didn’t even realise it until you said so back on the TARDIS.”

“Okay, but, Doctor… I’m fine. We got through it. Everything is okay.”

“It is now.” Another voice was taking over. The scream that told her to stop sharing before she scared them off. But Yaz was looking at her expectantly, and she could just pour her heart out looking into those big brown eyes. It would be so easy. “This life is… dangerous. People get hurt.”

Yaz swallowed and looked firm. “We know.”

“People die.”

With her words, the atmosphere around them went still and heavy.

After a few seconds, Yaz spoke. “I know we aren’t the first. Not by a long shot, and I know you’ve lost people before, Doctor.”

The Doctor let a loud breath out, it was almost a laugh. “You have no idea…”

“You can tell me.” Yaz’s hand covered the Doctor’s fist in her lap. “Please, tell me about it.”

The Doctor shook her head. She had already said too much. She hated this feeling, this darkness that crept up and took hold of her mind whenever she gave it the power.

“Listen. Don’t punish yourself over what happened or what might happen,” Yaz said, a sudden strength in her voice. Her hand gripped the Doctor’s a little more firmly. “You told us the risks of this life. You asked us to be sure. We chose this. I chose this. This life, the TARDIS, you.” Yaz leaned forward. “Trust me, Doctor. There’s no amount of risk that would make me want to give it all up.”

The Doctor shook her head again. She gestured in front of her with her palm turned up. “I showed you this life, how could you say no?”

“You didn’t ask!” said Yaz, exasperated. “We came to you, we practically invited ourselves! Doctor, you can’t keep taking responsibility for the whole universe.”

“I already am responsible for a lot of it, Yaz.”

Yaz looked at her in wonder, her eyebrows creased together. Probably trying to work out what I’ve done, the Doctor thought. Good thing Yaz wasn’t telepathic.

“Point still stands,” Yaz said. She came closer to the Doctor and spoke softly. “You’re worth the risk.”

That stopped the Doctor in her tracks. She turned her head to face Yaz and found her smiling, the same bright smile she always had, as if nothing had changed.

“I don’t want to lose you,” the Doctor said quietly, matching Yaz’s expression. Her smile was catching.

Yaz took her hand off the Doctor’s to put her arm around her and rested her head on her shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
